


Day to Day

by Gee_Writes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Dorks in Love, Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M, Poetry, Prompt Fic, Rinktober!!!2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-08 13:26:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12255276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gee_Writes/pseuds/Gee_Writes
Summary: A collected works of #Rinktober2017 drabbles.





	1. Chapter 1

**[#01] Your OTP in Love**

 

Yuuri is beautiful where he sits, absorbed in his call with Phichit as Makkachin lays across his lap.  The two have spent the best part of an hour catching up, and Viktor has spent the same watching the soft curl of his fiance’s smile instead of folding the laundry.  A laugh draws him close in the next moment, and Viktor could never justify any real reason to not be touching his partner in some capacity, so curls around a spot that isn’t currently under their dog.

“You look happy,” he nuzzles into Viktor’s neck once he’s close. 

“With you, always.”

 

* * *

 

**[#02] Skaters!!! on Life**

 

Yuuri was used to routine.  You didn't get to be the ace of Japanese skating without planning, measuring, and logging every aspect of your day.  Even any off-season respite he might of had was always inevitably swallowed under university work and sponsor demands, and Yuuri had learnt to adapt by losing himself in the hypnotising boredom of it.

Viktor’s routine, Yuuri now knows, was even worse. Twenty years spent with the Russian Skating Federation monitoring their prize athlete left much to be desired on privacy, and his fiancé had once shared a humorous but horrifying story of a White Night celebration being cut short due to a member of the FFKK hearing he was disappearing into the bathroom too much.  Whatever the suspicions had been, Viktor insisted it had been the cheap vodka.

Since they’ve been together though, nothing feels rote or repetitive - even when weeks pass where all they do is cross training, or simple daily chores like their shared evening walks taking Makkachin out.  Those moments, interspersed with impulsive surprises from Viktor, or Yuuri's own desire to learn and do new things together, has meant daily life has become a wonderful anticipation of experience and emotion. Every day something to look forward to sharing with the people, person, he loves.

And isn't that what life's about?

 

* * *

 

**[#03] Pets!!! On Ice**

 

Makkachin flops on top of Yuuri with her fluffy snout poking into the small space between his arm and side as he stretches out along the couch.  Wet nose digs deeper into the soft skin of his side, and he can’t stop the shocked gasp of a laugh when a rough tongue tickles a lick there.  Butt wiggling as her tail wags in response, a high whine is enough to know that she’s wanting attention after being stuck in the apartment all day.

It has been too cold to walk her to the Ice Palace in the mornings, so the poodle has had to be left behind in the warmth of the apartment - lonely, even if it had been much more comfortable.  She’s a comforting weight across his chest, and her sweet face is enough to make his heart leap; cuddling her close as she struggles to lick his face.  She’s been getting slower and sleepier in the past year, but he and Viktor do their best to make sure she knows how loved she is every day.  Runs along the beach during the summer, day trips to the park where she could race around the grass or snuffle around other friendly dogs.  She’s Viktor’s first love and closest family, and Yuuri cherishes her with everything he has.  Snuggling his own face into the soft curls at the top of her head, she yawns before laying her head on his shoulder, tail wagging as he pats down her back.

Viktor finds them in that exact position on the couch after his shower, ignoring the surprised yip and gasp when he joins them in the cuddle pile.


	2. Chapter 2

**[#04] Quad Flip**

 

It’s through pure annoyance and frustration at himself and his coach that he attempts it the first time, touching down on the ice, but getting the full rotations.  The impulsive urge to prove that he was good enough to deserve Viktor’s coaching, and shock the man himself after their fight in the rink’s parking lot.  He wasn’t going to let nerves affect him when the entire skating community was watching.  The pressure of keeping Viktor to himself for the season emanating from all directions, he had taken that perfect opportunity to prove himself to everyone who had ever doubted that _he_ was the one Viktor chose - including his own traitorous mind.  That first fateful quad flip hadn’t been perfect, but it had been the thing that finally brought them together, understanding.  Viktor’s responding kiss had bridged the unsurety of their relationship, breaking through both of their hesitations.  It wasn’t why Yuuri had done it, but it was the reason he loved it.

Subsequent skates and choreographies would revolve around that moment, his new skill, and soon Yuuri could fly without hesitation.  Perfecting the GOE until people were claiming Yuuri had completely usurped Viktor’s signature.  His husband, ever loving, never argued against the claim.  But Yuuri could never agree - it had always been because of Viktor that he had tried and landed the flip, and it had been under the Russian’s watchful gaze that he had brought it to the perfect, graceful glory it now was.

Together, it was their own.

 

* * *

 

**[#05] The King and The Skater II**

 

He knows all the words to the songs, and sings them proudly whenever the perfect moment occurs.  Yuuri rolls his eyes at him whenever he gets a little _too_ enthusiastic about a rewatch marathon, but it’s not like _he_ can talk, considering his Nikiforov obsession.  Phichit has a lot of love for the pair of cheesy kids films, even if no one else fully _gets it_.

Being fair though, the first film whilst good, and the inspiration for his interest in the sport, is hardly what he’d call a masterpiece.  He’s fully aware that the dialogue is hammy, and the production cheap, but when the musical interludes start, it’s magical.  Paired with the skating sequences, they really are the best part of the film, aside from the sheer campiness of the villain.  

The sequel though, _that_ is a masterpiece.  He’ll be dead before someone convinces him otherwise.

He’s had the argument with people before, about why he regards it as his favourite film _of all time_ , but it’s hard to put into words how full of hope it makes him.  He’s watched it at least once a month ever since first seeing it at 5, and even fifteen years later he cries at Princess Pensri’s sacrifice to save everyone.  The film has helped him at every low point he’s hit - homesickness, failure, frustration - and it’s a comfort to know that things get better if you keep fighting for the things you love.  He’s seen his best friend’s life turn into a fairytale right before their eyes as proof.

It lets him believe in his own dreams.

 

* * *

 

**[#06] Your Favourite Pairing!!! in an Alternate Universe [Urban Fantasy]**

 

Hone-Onna’s are said to haunt their lovers after death, slowly sucking their lifeforce dry.  Desperately wanting to stay with their partners despite the realities of mortality, and cursing them both in the process; most Hone-Onnas being hated and banished from the household before the death of their spouse.  It’s a tragedy borne of loving too much, and Yuuri lets it drive him away from people for most of his time in Japan.  If you were bound by fate and design to kill the person you loved most, then wasn’t it better to be alone?  Aside from his family and the sharp-witted Kitsune who had taught him the dances of the gods, Yuuri was far too fearful to get close to anyone.

He, and other Hone-Onnas, didn’t fall into the most vengeful class of spirits - ones that the Japanese government kept under constant surveillance - but neither were they fully accepted; often unemployable and homeless.  No one wanted to get close to a creature they didn’t understand, and with the yokai population slowly falling, the onsen was getting less and less popular.  Yuuri had moved from Japan to Detroit for just that reason.  The sanctuary city was far from perfect, but by moving to a place that actively encouraged supernatural residents to live and work there, he could help with his family’s expenses.

Detroit let him practice his dancing at the studio without the fear of bewitching the others he shared the class with, and helped him make his first friend, Phichit, a Phi Pa who had wanted to see the world outside of the Thai forests.  Supernaturals from all around the world gathered in the city - animal-like, vengeful, immortal, arcane - that living a relatively human life until death was barely noticed.  For the first time in his life, Yuuri felt free of fear.

That is, until the summer celebrations.

Viktor Nikiforov was introduced under the magic of a summer night -  hair spun like starlight, and eyes bluer than sapphires.  He’s new to Detroit, immigrating from St Petersburg after leaving a successful modelling career behind, looking for something more.  He had tired of the constant attention and adoration, although Yuuri can understand how no one had been able to take their eyes off of him.  Unable to form a sentence past his name, he quickly retreats to the refreshments, and in the haze of midsummer, forgets everything else outside of the inhuman _pull_ his heart keeps feeling.  There is dancing, and music, and declarations.  And Yuuri is mortified he let himself unravel so completely.

It takes him three months of avoidance before he speaks to Viktor again, and the other man has to literally trap him in a toilet cubicle at the dance studio before Yuuri will look at him.  Immediately his mind is spiralling as his heart races - he’s getting caught up in Viktor’s rhythm, and dangerously attached to how his smile blends between alluring and sweet.

“I think we’re very similar,” he had said.  Had touched Yuuri’s face, when he did.  “Lonely.”

Yuuri hadn’t said anything, didn’t know how to reply to something so frank.  The glitter in Viktor’s eyes and the softness of his fingertips along his jaw enough to make his mouth run dry, and the fragile hope that seemed to be bubbling from the beautiful man.

“Vila live long lives of beauty and boredom, Yuuri.  An immortality of nothing but being watched, with everyone entranced by how you look, but no one wanting to know your heart.  You cannot trust the attraction of bewitched humans. ”  Their situations are different, but it resonates hollowly in Yuuri’s chest.  The want to be loved, fully, completely, without fear.  Looking back at Viktor, he can feel the pull of his heart, giving him a glimmer of hope.

“I was wondering if you’d like to be friends?”


	3. Chapter 3

**[#07] Your Fave!!! in Tears**

It was a weepy sort of day.  The kind that starts with an uncanny feeling of upset that sinks into your bones and keeps it from improving.  It never seems to make sense when days like this happen, but he just curls up in his bedsheets and wills himself to calm down, to no avail.  Luckily it’s a rest day, and no classes, so he’s free to avoid the wider world for a little longer.

One minute he’s scrolling through twitter, the next he’s crying over cute bento boxes with foods in the shape of baby birds.  They’re so cute, and round, and he’s shedding tears before he even realises it.  He’s still crying when Phichit checks on him half an hour later; soft knock and warm tea accompanying him.  He takes note of the scene, and places the tea easily in reach before retreating.  Inhaling the fragrant curl of steam from the cup, he’s swallowing his second sip when his best friend returns - fluffy bed blanket under one arm, and laptop under the other.  Hands full of hamsters.

They watch The King and the Skater, and the sequel, bundled up together under the covers.  It’s easy to just let the constant background noise of familiar songs and hamster squeaks wash over him, and he’s sniffling against teariness as Phichit rubs circles along his back in comfort.  They don’t talk about days like these, just let them happen.  Some days it’s him weeping over pencil erasers, others it’s him bearing warm tea and laptop - an unspoken understanding between them.

As sad and overwhelming as these days feel, he treasures them a little now too.  

 

* * *

 

**[#08] Your Favourite Character!!! in a Different Art Style**

The music starts, the world is bright

submerged in the scene.

 

You’re a showman, a crowd-pleaser, a smile more brilliant than gold.

Young and beautiful.

The pride of South East Asia.

 

Years of adoration, brought to this.

A moment, a feeling, only you could capture.

 

Ice shines white.  

Echos bouncing with the crowd; everyone loves this song.

Landing the quad toe no one expected.

 

True to yourself, chasing that dream.

Answering that question, “Shall we skate?”

 

The moment ends, the crowd erupts.

An overwhelming, “yes, we shall.”

 

* * *

 

**[#09] Memes!!! On Ice**

Yuuri doesn't know who starts it, but he has a sneaking suspicion his best friend and husband have something to do with it.  Scrolling through skating news on twitter is where he first sees the picture of himself - stretched and bent into his ina bauer from last season’s trophée - followed by a teary shot of Viktor after Yuuri's 2019 Worlds gold.  The solid text of **Katsudamn** pointing out the obvious.

People keep posting it in response to any and all of Viktor’s tweets - and his husband encourages it, to say the least.  Strings of heart-eyed emojis responding to each one.  It's the most popular meme featuring them since the #KissCam one, spawned from Viktor’s impromptu leap and liplock, way back at the beginning of their relationship.

Before, Yuuri may have worried; but now he just smiles to himself with an exasperated roll of the eyes.  It's obvious to everyone how smitten Viktor is, so it really just falls into the expected now.

It's not like he didn't have his own file full of edited pictures of Viktor to use as reactions.


	4. Chapter 4

**[#10] Skaters!!! on Butt**

 

“It's incredible, isn't it?” Viktor watches his fiancé launch into a triple salchow from the side boards.  Mila nods ruefully in agreement - mirroring the movement of the other skater as Yuuri continues his program run through, oblivious.  Seeing their enrapture, Yuri slides over, curious.

“What are you doing staring at Katsudon like that?”  The blonde frowning as if he's missing something.  “Is he changing his program or something?”

“No,” Viktor starts. “Just admiring my Yuuri -”

“-‘s ass,” Mila finishes.  Yuri makes no effort to quiet his retching sound.

“Eewww.  I don't want to hear about that shit.”

“Figure skaters always have strong leg and lower body muscles, Yurio.  It's an indication of strength.”  Viktor smirks at the teens disgust.  “I would be failing at my coaching duties if I didn't take notice of my student's physical condition.”

“Everyone knows that's not fucking why you -” stopping abruptly as Yuuri joins them at the side of the rink. Yuri’s cheeks flaming red at the possibility the Japanese skater overheard.

“What are you guys talking about?” Eyes flickering to Viktor before smiling softly.

“Nothi-”

“Your butt.”  Yuri looks like he can't believe how Viktor can be so candid in his bluntness.  He chokes against his inhale at Yuuri's response.

“Oh?”

“It's a perfect specimen,” the living legend flirts.

“Yours isn't half bad either, Mr. Nikiforov,” Yuuri flirts right back.

Yuri carves deep into the ice as he stomps away in his skates; hands over his ears and mumble under his breath.  Viktor can't help his amusement at the fact that despite all his complaints, little Yuri never disagreed with the sentiment.

 

* * *

 

**[#11] Tales of a Sleeping Prince**

 

The moonlight spills over their bed as the night stretches on.  Large window lets the night sky merge into the bedroom, city lights blending with the stars.  Silver hair falls artfully across the pillow as Viktor sleeps, and Yuuri can't stop himself brushing his fingers through it.  Soft breathing breaking the quiet of the evening.  

Smiling in contentment, Yuuri leans over to skim his lips across his partner's forehead before pulling him close into his arms to also fall asleep.

 

*

 

Morning sun announces the day as Viktor stretches awake.  It's warm bundled up in the blankets and Yuuri's arms.  His fiancé doesn't stir even when Viktor shuffles up to lean against one arm.  Dark lashes flutter as Yuuri continues to dream, and he's the single most beautiful person Viktor has ever seen.  Leaning down to steal a kiss, his heart leaps when he feels the smile against his own.

“Good morning, my Sleeping Beauty.  It's time to wake up.”  Smiling wider at Yuuri's huff of amusement.

“I'd much prefer to sleep in with my Prince instead,” eyes the colour of bourbon cracking open, with a look than runs right through Viktor.  “What do you think?”

Embracing him close as the covers fall around them, they tangle up in limbs and smiles.  Warm skin glowing against the white of the sheets as Viktor looks to him, adoring.  Kissing anywhere he can reach, he leans closer as Yuuri's arms loop around his neck.

“I think that can be arranged.”

 

* * *

 

**[#12] Skaters!!! On Social Media**

 

Yuuri rarely posts things on his twitter or instagram, but that doesn't mean he isn't checking social media almost as religiously as Phichit.  A lot of the day-to-days of his friends, or updates, highlights and news from the ISU was collated easily online, and it was easy to flick through in between practices or during lazy hours at home.

Phichit lives on his social media - with selfies with his hamsters and artful shots of food interspersed with videos from practices and exhibitions.  His daily life in Bangkok recorded through innocuous shots of his home rink, the night markets or along the Chao Phraya river.  It makes Yuuri feel like he's still an active part of his best friend's life on days he misses him.

Most skaters are the same - sharing moments of their lives with fans and the world - but Yuuri has never really felt the need.  Initially, it was due to the fact that he didn't think anyone would be interested enough in him to want to follow his social media, and later just relied on Phichit’s posting.  Now, his husband posts enough for the two of them.

Viktor litters his accounts with pictures of them both, and it makes a wave of warmth build at how happy they look -  _ are _ \- in each shot.  It's only a small snapshot of their lives, but Yuuri is so happy his husband wants to share it in this way.  Whether it's a video of him landing his quad sal, or photographs of their recent trip to the beach with Makka, Yuuri loves the proof of how much their lives are now intertwined.

It's almost enough to get him to share his own photos of Viktor online - but instead, he prefers keeping them private; treasuring them for himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**[#13] History Maker**

 

Spending two weeks in Bangkok during the off-season, courtesy of Phichit, was a nice break from the usual.  His best friend had been encouraging them to visit for years, and it was only now, with Viktor’s recent retirement that they had finally found enough time between them.  The Thai skater had met them at the airport and nearly vibrated out of his own skin in excitement as he hugged first Yuuri, then Viktor.  The warmth of his smile familiar after being apart for so long.

Collecting their luggage, it’s not until they’re all bundled into a cab that Phichit turns to them - eyes glittering with good news after giving the driver his address.  They’re spending their stay at Phichit’s place, despite Yuuri’s insistence on getting a hotel.  Viktor can’t seem to wait, from how many photos he’s already taking of the landscape speeding by.

“You have such good timing, you two!  You get best seats for my ice show!”  Moving to dig out an envelope from his bag.  “Opening night is Friday.”

“So exciting!!  I hope we can be in your next one.”

“Maybe now that you’re not dominating competitions anymore Mr Legend, I’ll keep that in mind,” teasing.  “You don’t mind if I kidnap your husband, do you, Yuuri?”

“You can keep him if you want,” snickering at the pout Viktor gives him.  “I’ll need my coach though, so maybe not immediately.”  Kissing his husband’s cheek against his whine, he ruffles his hair where he can reach.  Long, familiar arms loop around his waist in retaliation.

Struggling against his husband’s embrace, Yuuri manages to open the envelope to retrieve the tickets, reading the title.

“History Maker?”  Looking to his best friend.

“You like it?”  Smiling in the way that Yuuri knows means mischief.  “It’s about two skaters from the opposite ends of the world who feel lost and broken until they meet and fall in love.”

“Phichit!!”

“You like it?”  Prompting again.  Leaning forward with his chin resting in both hands, unrepentant.

“I can’t believe -”

“It sounds wonderful!” Viktor clinging to his arm as he bundles even closer.  “I can’t wait to see it.”

 

* * *

 

**[#14]The Nishigori Family!!! On Ice**

 

The Nishigori girls were born for the ice.  Their mother’s family had run Ice Castle Hasetsu since it’s opening, and both parents had spent their lives as recreational skaters.  Yuuko had, once upon a time, had dreams of competitions - but by high school decided she much preferred to take over as owner and trainer once her parents retired.  Both she and Takeshi had spent their childhoods along with Yuuri at the rink; it was an important place for all three of them.

The triplets were destined to love the ice - named for jumps and passionate fans before even reaching kindergarten.  Starting lessons at the same age Yuuko had, their enthusiasm for lessons were only matched by their Uncles’ - Viktor and Yuuri often taking over in coaching them through their basics and figures whenever they were visiting Hasetsu.  Young Yuri had encouraged them too, mostly over text, but sometimes in person too.

Axel, Lutz and Loop may have had ice in their blood - like most everyone they loved and knew - but that didn’t mean they were cold.

 

* * *

 

**[#15] Eros**

 

It had meant to be a reflection of seduction - the yearning attraction Viktor had felt at the Sochi banquet before being left adrift, with Yuuri giving no indication when or if he’d see him again.  He had been utterly swept up, and after six weeks of utter abandonment, Viktor did what he did best: he skated about it.

His whole life up until this point had been captured through step sequences, jumps and spins.  It was easy to concentrate the burning desire that had ignited his core and borne the flicker of hope in his heart into two and a half minutes on the ice.  He had intended it as a message of that magical night, a cry for that spark he had felt.  A heady mix of bliss and pity.

But Yuuri had evolved it to something even more bewitching, more intimate.  A program that allured with lowered eyelids and the pop of a hip - that made promises Viktor hoped he could keep.

Eros had started as a burning, spurned lust - a fragment of what it should have captured.  It was only Yuuri - beautiful, wonderful Yuuri, who had transformed it into the yearning, hopeful enticement it was supposed to be.


	6. Chapter 6

**[#16] Agape**

 

The costume that had later been retired to the Agape program had originally started as part of Viktor’s silver-winning Junior Grand Prix short program in 2002.  The silver shine was meant to reflect silver linings of the clouds as he spun through the story of a cheeky angel.  Thirteen and desperate to prove his talent; eager to make an impression with his cheery personality.

The Agape program wasn't the same as that - a wistful adoration and dedication of unconditional love - but the style, the design still fit.  Yuri had broken records wearing it, and the soft feathered shoulders, delicate silver lattice, capturing the fragility of innocence in childhood.  It was perfect, despite essentially being a hand-me-down.

But really, Viktor was mostly impressed it had stayed in competing condition for the best part of a decade and a half.

 

* * *

 

**[#17] Skaters!!! In the Different Seasons**

 

_ Spring:   _ Sakura flutter from the branches along the street, warm breezes dancing them along as they fall.  Yuuri feels nostalgia well as he passes on his morning run - the quintessential Japanese experience he'd missed since his final year in high school.  Hasetsu was filled with the trees, and they bloomed beautifully the same time every year.

It had been one of the things he'd indulgently daydreamed about privately in his youth - showing his idol Viktor around the town during its most beautiful season.  It's surreal now, having the man himself cycling behind his jogging.  Stopping every so often to get Yuuri to take pictures of or with him.

Viktor is beautiful silhouettes and grace, and the soft delicateness of the sakura is complementary, if not the same type of beauty.

It takes Yuuri's breath away.

 

_ Summer:  _  Leo stretches along his pool lounger, headphones in, using one hand to block the sun as he scrolls through his phone.  A couple of his rinkmates are partying along the coast during the off-season, but Leo has an upcoming exhibition to work towards, and had to pass.  Guang-Hong keeps sending him pictures of funny Engrish t-shirts he finds at the Dongjiao Markets, and the American has been trying to convince his friend to send him the one that says “ **I'm so fucking future”** .  It's  _ perfect. _

Sweat rolls down his temple, and he rolls over to hide his chest from the Californian sun.  Juana plops herself in the neighbouring lounger, and he happily takes the paleta she offers.  Sweet mango ice hits his tongue, and he grins at his sister - already half done with hers.

Summer beats pump in his ears, and he wonders if he'll ever be able to capture a moment like this on the ice.

He wants to try.

 

_Autumn:_ Spending the seasons in Detroit was nothing like back in Thailand.  Before moving to the US, he had never owned anything heavier than a cotton overshirt.  There was no need when the weather swings between the rainy and dry seasons, after all.  But now he had adjusted to wearing 2 layers as soon as the leaves started to turn and fall - biting winds scurrying his jogs to the bus to get to class or the rink.

Autumn was also the indication that the whole country was preparing for the holiday season with pumpkin spice flavoured  _ everything,  _ and shelves filling with Halloween/Thanksgiving/Christmas decorations.  It's a fun time of year, even if he doesn't subscribe to any of the beliefs behind them personally - “When in Rome,” and all that.

This year was his first year experiencing it all alone, though.  If he had realised that he'd lose the everyday companionship of his best friend this year, he would have spent more time being grateful for it last year.

 

_Winter:_  Yuri never gets a break over Christmas, New Years, or the 6th of January, for obvious reasons.  There are the Grand Prix Finals, Nationals and then prep for Europeans all in the short few weeks they fall in, and it's been many, many years since he's gone home to Moscow to spend it with his family.  His Grandpa sometimes drives to visit him in the dorms, laden with gifts and food, but each year gets harder.

Katsudon invites him to a pre-emptive birthday party for Viktor at their apartment, before they have to split up for their respective Nationals.  It seems most people from the rink are being invited, and Yuri can't fully admit he's pretty excited - even if it's celebrating another year of the old man existing.  He rationalises it as that he has to go in order to share all the Russian birthday traditions with Katsudon, in order to  _ really _ celebrate.  He's looking forward to the face Viktor will make when his ears are getting pulled - with his bad memory, Yuri might even be able to sneak in an extra pull or two.

It's not the same as seeing his parents, or crowding around the fireplace with his Grandpa as they warm up from the several feet of snowfall, but it's not too far from being with family either.

 

* * *

 

**[#18] Welcome to the Madness**

 

_ There is no such thing as too much leather _ is what Yuri thinks when he sees the outfit for the first time.  It’s far past any reasonable hour for him to be out, considering he has his exhibition skate tomorrow, but he’d hated being stuck alone at the hotel.  He’d had won the GPF - youngest in history, during his senior debut - and rather than hanging out with someone cool (like Otabek), he had been told by Yakov and Lilia to get an early night, with no horseplay.  He thought things would be different after showing the world how great, amazing,  _ awesome _ , he was - he’d even broke the SP record, for fuck’s sake!! - but instead he was stuck in a lonely hotel room with no company and nothing to do.

So he’d texted Mila, but she was out partying, like a normal person.  He didn’t dare interrupt whatever Katsudon and the Old Man were doing after their silver win, and Otabek had said he’d be busy.  He can’t remember who let it slip, but when Yuri found out his newly-found friend was busy because he was  _  DJing _ , well, he decided to stop caring about what Yakov expected off the ice.

He wasn’t able to get into the club, but sat outside, furious nevertheless and unfeeling of the December cold.  It was early morning by the time Otabek’s set ended, and the older teen had just sat beside him as he stewed in anger and frustration.  The moon was bright still in the sky when Otabek shared his mix list, earbud passed over, and then he’d heard it.  A song that captured this moment of crazy perfectly.  It was a stupid idea.  It was the best idea.  Otabek didn’t stop him.

They went clothes shopping in the morning.  Leather and rips and an outfit he hoped would give Yakov a (metaphorical) heart attack.  They borrowed Mila’s eyeliner and Yuri made sure to slip out before his coach would have any idea that changes had been made.

He couldn’t wait.  Their newly-formed exhibition something so perfectly branded Plisetsky, compared to the dainty, rigid confines of his short and free programs.

_ This was going to be fun. _


	7. Chapter 7

**[#19] Your Favourite Skater!!! In Their Best/Worst Endorsement Commercial**

 

It started as a jokey, somewhat-scandalous picture of Leo de la Iglesias in a shirt with _I’m so fucking future_ on it.  People were paying attention to him, thanks to his recent pick for the upcoming Winter Olympics, and the picture in question - a shot of him nailing the landing to his triple toe - was quick to amass the attention of both the figure skating community and the populace at large.

Phichit Chulanont quickly jumped on board the hype - sharing the picture of his American friend with the hashtag #sofxckingfuture.  He joked about wanting his own, courtesy of Chinese skater Guang-Hong Ji (who publicly apologised for causing trouble, hoping that he hadn’t broken any major rules) and was later seen filling his Instagram with selfies in the infamous shirt.  Before long, a majority of the senior skaters were spotted with the tee, joking about the good luck it was bringing to the Games.  By far the most popular was a photograph of skater Katsuki in his own, red-faced in embarrassment, proudly being presented by his coach and fiancé, Viktor Nikiforov.  

Rather than the backlash many of the fans expected from the ISU, it became a _thing._   Promos from almost all the participating skaters (including those that had started the trending hashtag) were filmed, in an attempt to capitalise on the attention being brought to the sport in the leadup to the games - focused on _‘The Future of the Sport'_. The only one missing from the roster, the current reigning champion, Viktor Nikiforov.

For most people, it was the first time they had known anything about competitive skating, and it was hugely successful thanks to the fun upbeat nature of most of the athletes.  The ratings for the figure skating singles and pairs were at a record high during Pyeongchang, and even after, it was common to see skating fans wearing the distinctive shirt.

Phichit had never been so proud.

 

* * *

 

**[#20] Best Friends!!! On Vacation**

 

Whoever’s idea it was to go camping at Lake Michigan was an idiot, Yuuri had thought.  Despite being summer the wind was cold enough to leave a chill, and he wasn’t sure any of his fellow skaters knew how to actually pitch a tent.  Yuuri wasn’t built for outdoor adventures, and if it hadn’t been for Phichit’s near begging to join the rest of Celestino’s skaters for camping and cookouts, he’d have been back at their apartment keeping the hamsters company and sifting through boring television. Instead, he was weak and caved - leaving the hamsters with one of Phichit’s friends from one of the many campus clubs he was a part of and packing himself along with the rest of his rinkmates into Simon’s people-mover he borrowed from his Mom

They planned on three days by the lake, filled with hiking, swimming, kayaking and bonfires, but three hours in at the campsite was proof enough that they might all die out there, thanks to their shared ineptitude.  The tent Yuuri was sharing with his best friend leaned precariously on one side as he struggled to get it fixed, and the others tried to figure out how exactly they should build the firepit.  It was only later, as the sun was sinking and they returned from splashing in the cool waters of the river, that a helpful camper from farther down the way felt enough pity to help them build a substantial fire.

Mosquitos had bitten him from head to toe whilst they ate cheap curry and rice and listened to a mix of recent summer hits.  Phichit had coaxed him into dancing around the campfire together, and after, Yuuri had helped Michael soothe aloe vera along his sunburnt back.  Someone brought out their cooler of beer, and the night devolved from there - a messy sequence of ill-lit photos on Phichit and Janine’s phones the only lasting evidence.

It was one of those photos, dark and blurry, but warm with firelight - Phichit and Yuuri hand in hand as they spun to some now-dated summer remix - that had popped up on his Facebook feed.   _On This Day Seven Years Ago_ , it had said, and Yuuri could hardly believe that so much time had passed.  A lot had changed since then, but if he tried hard enough, even now he could smell the burning wood and sunscreen of that trip.  Remember the lumpy sleeping bag he’d borrowed and Phichit’s insistence on painting their toenails green.  He hadn’t really wanted to go at the time, but it was a fond memory of his friends and fellow skaters in Detroit.

Clicking on the memory notification, he shared it to Phichit’s wall with the caption, _Good times_.  It was early afternoon in Bangkok, by his mental calculations, and he was sure his best friend would see it soon, after his ice time.

Barely an hour later, Phichit had commented back - _we should do it again!  You, me and that husband of yours at Lake Michigan.  Give Viktor the real Detroit college experience ;)_

It was crazy.  It was stupid.  It was probably the _worst_ idea ever.  So of course he agreed.

 

* * *

 

**[#21] Intoxicated**

 

 _“_ A toast, mon cher, to both of our beautiful beaux this evening,” Chris sliding up with an extra champagne flute in hand.  Viktor takes it happily, and knocks it gently against the Swiss’ - the melodic _clink_ ringing pure despite the usual noise of the banquet going on around them.  Chris smiles to him again as he finishes his sip, before looking around.  “Speaking of which, where is Yuuri?  I want to make sure to congratulate him properly.”  Wide grin betraying his less-than-innocent intents.  Viktor huffs at his friend, an unspoken promise that Yuuri wasn’t going to be repeating last year’s banquet - well, except for Viktor’s determination to get a dance, that is.

“He’s off speaking to his sponsors about the move.  I was with him initially, but they’re speaking Japanese, and he seems to have it covered,” shrugging before taking another sip from his glass.

“I see you’re definitely a better skater than you are coach, Viktor.  I couldn’t even imagine Josef ever leaving me to negotiate with sponsors.”

“I think you and I both know he’d have less problems with you handling the sponsors if there wasn’t a very real risk of you signing with a condom brand again.”

“You wound me, Viktor.  You know I only want to support high quality and reliable companies and products,” clutching his chest in mock distress.  Humour sparkling in his eyes as he reopens them.  “Besides, I’ve never seen _you_ complain about my generosity in sharing all the stock they send me.”  Sputtering on his champagne, Viktor tries very hard not to cause a scene with how scandalised he looks.  “Speaking of which,” Chris continues, unperturbed, “I’m expecting another shipment at the end of the month.  Did you -?”  The bright red of Viktor’s face all the confirmation he needs.

Rather than let his friend keep him spiralling down into admitting something even more embarrassing about his relationship, he instead switches the topic to something somewhat safer.  “Your routines were very good this year, Chris.  Really emphasising the mature feel.”

Sighing heavily, he looks to Yuri Plisetsky who’s chatting with skater Altin.  “Not good enough for the Final, it seems, but watch out for me at Europeans, Viktor.  Like hell I’m letting someone who spent the year off the ice snatch gold away again.”

“I wasn’t completely off the ice,” he responds.  “But you’re right, I really need to iron out a proper routine before Europeans or Worlds.  You have a very good chance of beating me if you keep your Lutz strong.  Your short - Intoxicated? - was really sultry.  I liked it a lot.”

“Well, you can thank your beautiful fiancé and last year’s fun for that,” winking at Viktor’s shock, before laughing.  “That night really encaptured how wonderful it is to be so dizzyingly overwhelmed with someone.  Of course, I mixed that feeling with my own feelings for Matthieu, and _Intoxicated_ was born.  We had to do a lot of ...practice to get the feeling right.”  Chris’ boyfriend was sweet and unassuming, a quiet accountant he’d met at their shared bookclub several years ago.  Despite appearances though, Viktor knows he’s sharply witty and quick to counter any of Christophe’s innuendo - well suited to both the skater’s public and private personality.

“You certainly did it justice, then.  I still feel like I’m drunk on Yuuri,” waving a little to his fiancé when he sees his conversation with the sponsors winding up.

“Well, let’s make sure to take advantage of that and have some fun dancing - you grab your beau, I’ll grab mine, and we can get drunk on something better than this cheap champagne.”


	8. Chapter 8

**[#22] Vkusno!!!**

 

Licking his lips, Viktor finishes his delicious bite of coffee cream cake - the sweet liquor on his tongue balancing the heavy cream and soft sponge.  Yuuri nibbles at his own, nodding once he’s done.

“What do you think?”  Resting his head on one hand as he looks to the Japanese man.  Smiling back, Yuuri’s tongue pokes out to catch a smudge of cream in the corner of his mouth before replying.

“It’s very good - probably my favourite out of this set.”

Viktor agrees.  There are plenty of delicious sweets they’ve tried over the past, and Viktor knew he wouldn’t be able to choose by himself.  Really, he didn’t want to just decide something without his fiance’s input - it was always going to be a joint decision.  “Should we get this one, then?”

“I think so - If you like it too, of course!”

“Of course.”  Capturing his free hand and interlacing their fingers.  Yuuri is indulging Viktor’s selfish and somewhat over-indulgent whims yet again by agreeing to a large wedding - but the older skater wanted to celebrate their relationship, their future, their love with the people most close to them.  They’ve had an endless string of fittings, tastings, meetings over the past month, and today’s cake tasting signified the final part.  After having to wait so long to organise it all, Viktor had fantasised leaving it all behind, eloping and just being together.  If he wasn’t acutely aware of how disappointed both of their families (and Yakov, secretly) would be, he might have done it.

It would hardly be the first time he’d jumped onto a plane to be with the man he loved - so far it had always seemed to work out.

 

* * *

 

**[#23] Skaters!!! At Different Ages**

 

[4]

Viktor Iosifovich Nikiforov first touched the ice when his parents took him to their local rink at four years old.  Wobbly and gripping tight to his mother’s coats, the tiny rental skates slide him along the frozen floor.  Big eyes wide as she takes one of his hands and spins him around - laughing kind-heartedly when he asks to do it again.  His father moves alongside them both, and older brother Felix confident enough to be skating ahead on his own, poking his tongue out in tease when Viktor inevitably falls whilst trying to do the same.  The soothing sound of blades cutting into the ice is hypnotic, and Viktor is enthralled when a woman launches into a jump.  It spins beautifully, and she lands, confident - waving to him with a smile when he claps his small hands, awed.

He asks to go to the rink again every day after that.

 

[7]

Entering into the novice program under Yakov Feltsman was a dream come true.  Everyone called him the best, and he’d had two of his skaters in the most recent Olympics.  Viktor loved skating - loved how free he felt by becoming someone else on the ice - only secondary to the love he felt for his family.

He sobs grossly when he has to leave for the dorms.  It’s a standard for most of the skaters who go to the Ice Palace, but his whole world up until now has lived in the small townhouse he calls home.  Lots of his things are staying here, and his parents promise to see him at least once a week, but it’s still not the same.  His dorm room won’t have the warm hearth he sometimes snoozed in front of after a long day of skating, or the familiar carpets on the living room wall, or their old TV that had more channels of static than programming.  He wouldn’t be sharing a bedroom with Felix and his collection of cassettes anymore.

He’s so excited to be able to skate more seriously, but he’s sad he has to leave everything else behind.

 

[13]

His Junior debut is strong, but not the best.  He doesn’t podium in any of the international events, but he did manage bronze in Nationals.  Viktor is proud to present his parents with the first medal of his professional career, and he’s allowed to go home for s hashlyik after all the formalities.  He had forgotten it was his birthday, so wrapped up in his debut and win, that he couldn’t help the shock that hit when his mother presented him with his darling Makkachin.  His jaw dropped when he was presented with the soft fluffball, fork hitting the floor in a clatter.  Waves of fondness wash over him as he realises how much he missed having his family close, understanding, like this.  He likes the other skaters he lives with, but they and the hours of skating weren’t enough to fill the absence of his family.  Couldn’t provide the unconditional love that they did.

Rushing to scoop her up with both hands, there are tears spilling heavy as she struggles to lick them all up.

She was better than any stupid gold medal.

 

[16]

His  _ Romantique _ program was enough to push him to the top of the rankings in France, daring and bold for his first routine in the senior division.  With a bronze in Canada, he makes it to the GPF, much to both his and Yakov’s delight.

He designed his costume on a picture he found in one of Georgi’s magazines he’d lent him.  Black and supported with both fine mesh and silver crystals, he’d sketched it out to share with Yakov and his usual designer - if his coach suspected what the inspiration was, he never mentioned it specifically; but Viktor had learnt over many years that just because Yakov didn’t say something, doesn’t mean he didn’t  _ know _ .

He doesn’t know how the Finals will go in Beijing, but he knows he has the ability  _ and _ the drive to get him to the podium.

 

[20]

The media speculates why he cuts his hair - lost love, illness, a physical manifestation of his disappointment in the possibility of having to withdraw from the current season - they will never know the real reason.

Two weeks ago had had him practising his jumps, as expected.  He’s working hard to add another quad to his technical elements for the upcoming competitions, and Yakov had him strung up in the jump harness.  How it had happened, no one knows, but one minute he’s trying again to get the proper landing for the quad flip - hoping to push himself farther than the current jump schedule - and the next he’s in pain, crumpling to the ice as his ankle flairs in pain and somehow his long hair is caught in the ball bearing swivels.  Whether his counter-balance hadn’t caught up with the last jump, or somehow the harness had malfunctioned, but the equipment had tangled up in his ponytail and all Viktor could feel was white-hot pain shooting up his leg as Yakov worriedly gets him rinkside.

Somehow, miraculously, it’s a sprain, not a fracture in his ankle.  The same cannot be said for his hair, which had gotten so tangled the medical staff had roughly chopped it short to get the rest of the harness off, and it was with a noticeable hobble that he and Georgi had gone to the nearest hairdressers.

He wasn’t used to how short it was yet.  Makka didn’t seem to mind.

 

[22]

It’s at Skate America that he first lands the quad that would later become his signature.

After the fanfare and hours upon hours of interviews, he retreated to his hotel room, alone.  It was his usual routine - spending the evening after a competition, curled up in hotel beds as he flicked through the movie channels.  No more news or reporters, no more socialising, no more putting on a smile expertly mixed with humility and pride.  Room service was filling as much as it was fattening, and he passively watches Sleepless in Seattle in between flipping the gold medal in one hand.

Aside from the dialogue from the movie, the room is near-silent.  He considers calling his parents about the win, but decides to just email in the morning instead.  They still watch all of his routines, but after the fact.  He’s sure the news will be all over the sports section tomorrow, and both his SP and FP posted online.  Makka is staying with his brother and sister-in-law, and he hopes she’s getting enough attention.  Hopes she knows how much he loves her.

Things are great, he’s excelling beyond his fellow skaters, and finally where he’s been working towards for years.

He just wonders why he isn’t as happy as he thought he’d be. 

 

[27]

The warm sand of the Hasetsu beach crunches underfoot, and the salty wind feels fresh against the summer heat.  St Petersburg has it’s own share of beaches, but it feels like years since he’s been able to go and walk along the shore, splash in the water, chase Makka as she bounds around.  The sun is high, and he’s laughing, truly happy in the moment.  The poodle barks, fur hanging wet as she pants, and darts around her owner.  More laughter, beautiful, rising up, and Viktor grins at Yuuri as he plays with the dog.

He’s in love - with this scene and with this man.  There’s so much he still needs to do with and learn about and see from Yuuri, but nothing could convince him that he wasn’t totally, completely, deeply in love with the man who had reintroduced him to feeling his smile reach his eyes.

 

[38]

Yuuri sits handsomely in his chair, shirt crisp and white, glasses reflecting the low light of the restaurant.  The place they’re dining at is both pricey and prestigious, but surprisingly empty, just as planned.  Viktor is driving himself halfway to crazy as he tries to keep from checking his watch - because tonight has to be  _ perfect _ .  It’s their tenth wedding anniversary, and everything has taken months of secret planning - but Viktor would do anything for his husband.

They’re just finished ordering when hands clamp around Yuuri’s eyes, a teasing “guess who” betraying their owner.  Yuuri sits shocked for only a moment, before standing to hug his sister.  Viktor greeting his in-laws as they find a neighbouring table; Mari’s daughter chatting to Yuuri as her father joins them both.  Hiroko and Toshiya hug Viktor tight, and seat themselves, waiting for their daughter’s family to free their son.

With the arrival of the Katsukis, soon then the rest of their friends arrived.  A mix of family, friends and former rinkmates filling the tables that previously were empty.  The atmosphere is warm and happy, and Phichit keeps forgetting to turn his flash off.

Once everyone’s fed and watered, talking and laughing, Viktor finally manages to stand from his chair - a flute of champagne in one hand as he calls for attention in the room.  He can feel his husband’s eyes on him, waiting to see  _ what else _ he had planned, and Viktor can’t risk taking a look to confirm because he knows he won’t be able to draw his eyes away.  He had something to do, and couldn’t get distracted.

“Thank you, everyone, for joining us tonight. You’ve made a special night even better, and I hope you have all enjoyed yourself.

“Tonight marks ten years of the best part of my life.  Yuuri,” turning to his husband now, hand reaching over to lace their fingers, “I still can’t believe how lucky I am.  You’ve given me everything, despite how undeserving I am.

“I love you more and more every day, so I’m finally going to do what I wanted to, a thousand times, over those eight months in Hasetsu.”

The crowd is silent.  Phichit and Yuri are filming from different angles, and the only light outside the spotlight on them are the flickers of table candles.  Yuuri seems confused as his husband moves to his side of the table.  Kissing the back of his hand where they’re still holding each other, and Yuuri’s responding smile is earth-shatteringly soft.

Viktor drops to one knee.

“Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, would you do me the honour of marrying me?”

Yuuri laughs, before wiping at an errant tear.  “You big dork,” he says.  “We’re already married.  Or did you forget the last ten years?”

“I could never forget a second with you, zolotse,” kissing at knuckles as his own skim across the soft curve of Yuuri’s face.  “But another ten years together - another hundred - wouldn’t be enough.  Could you put up with me that long?” 

“What a stupid question, Vitya,” smiling softly as he leans into the touch along his face, kissing Viktor’s closest part, his wrist.  Free hand brushing back silver fringe to look him in the eye.  Direct, honest.

“There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

 

* * *

 

**[#24] Theme of King JJ**

 

The Leroy family were known for skaters - Olympic winners in every generation for ice dancing, pairs and singles.  And Jean-Jacques, first son, was going to be the best.  Both his younger siblings were already making waves in the junior division like he had.  Expectations were high, but JJ had no problems meeting them each and every time.  He had to.

His bronze win in Sochi was just the tip of the iceberg.  Pushing his quad count to five for the next season, grinning at his luck in Nikiforov stepping down to coach.  Winning will be a snap now.  He needs an international gold, to secure himself at the to*.  He knows his parents are expecting one soon, and he’s promised Isabella one too.  Landing his jumps so often it’s like muscle memory now, and his programs are perfection - he’s finally going to show the world what he can do.  That he’s a gold-winner, like his Mom and Dad and Renée and Bastien.  

He can to it, of course.  Skating is in his blood.  He’s part of the Leroy family and Canada’s pride.

Getting gold should be easy.


	9. Chapter 9

**[#25] Your Favourite Skater!!! In the Skating Costume They Most Regret**

 

It started as the discovery of Phichit’s pre-Instagram photos (i.e. his family photographs that had been meticulously and lovingly framed around his family’s home.)  Phichit had insisted his mother would kill them all if she missed the opportunity to meet and thank the boy who had befriended her son during his years in America; so, a week into Yuuri and Viktor’s vacation to Bangkok they had been invited to the Chulanont family home.

The townhouse is farther from the city centre, more protected from the constant traffic and bustle of daily life than Phichit’s modest unit.  Bikes litter the front garden, and two scooters sit in the garage next to the front door.  The door opens only a fraction of a second after the bell rings, and cheeky faces grin up from behind the door.

“แม่, พิจิตรอยู่ที่นี่!” One of the younger boys shouts, before turning to join his brother in inviting the three in.  Along with Phichit’s two teenage brothers, they meet his grandmother and parents - his mother chiding her oldest son on waiting so long, before welcoming the two guests to the home.

The food is delicious, even though Viktor turns a startling shade of pink whilst trying to finish his entire meal, and it’s with a satisfied sigh that Yuuri sits back in his chair.  Phichit is good-naturedly arguing with his mother that he’s surviving on his own at his unit, and Viktor is keeping up conversations with both Phichit’s father and brothers - split between figure skating talk, and what snow was like.

Many of the walls and side tables are filled with photographs of the family, including Phichit’s costumes and routines from time past.  It’s one of these, with a prepubescent Phichit grinning to the camera, that jumps out to Yuuri - just on the shock of colour jumping from the photo.

“What are you -? Oh, please, not that one!”

“What’s wrong with this one,” grinning against his friend’s embarrassment as he tries to snatch the frame from him.  “It’s cute.”  
  
“Ugh, please.  I was supposed to be a Kinarra, but I look like a gilded Big Bird,” he groans in defeat.  “Every time I’m here I ask Mom to get rid of it, but she always keeps it out.”

“I don’t know.  I think you could make it work for an exhibition,” tilting his head like he’s thinking through something, finger tapping his chin.

“Nobody’s cooler than Big Bird, after all.”

“Yuuri!!”

 

* * *

 

**[#26] Cyberpunk: I’m No Longer Human**

 

Emil wasn’t quite sure why he’d chosen his theme for the year, aside from the fact he’d really enjoyed the shlocky sci-fi he’d been watching at the time.  If it had been Seung Gil or someone, you could probably extrapolate ideas about wanting to perfect the precision of his quads or something, but he hadn’t really given it that much thought.  He loved skating - worked harder at it than anything else in his life - but wouldn’t want to remove the imperfect human element of his routines.

Sure he fell sometimes; and sure, he didn’t usually have some grand story he was trying to tell - but it was fun and exciting just going out on the ice most days, regardless of the theme.

Cyberpunk was a challenge - trying to balance the fluid grace inherently ingrained in skating with the choppy, mechanical movements of a cyborg or robot - but Emil thought it probably gave him an edge over the other competitors.  He liked doing something different, against the grain.

He tried, and failed sometimes, but kept trying.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was something he was proud of.

Pretty human, actually.

 

* * *

 

**[#27]Stammi Vicino**

 

When Viktor had originally developed his free skate for the 2015-16 season, it had been a lonely thing - crying to the heavens in longing.  There was no one in particular he had been skating about during the preliminaries and GPF, but the program was meant to encapsulate everything he had been feeling for years.  Calling out to the emptiness that skating had once filled, and wanting to hear more than the echo of his own voice.  It didn’t break records, didn’t push boundaries, but it had been a more true reflection of Viktor’s self than any of his other programs had ever been.

For Worlds, he was nursing a broken heart.  He wasn’t sure it was love he had lost, but the fleeting hope that had felt so warm in the moment was something that had hurt so much once it faded into absence.  Yuuri Katsuki wasn’t competing, and he hadn’t contacted him since that magical, wonderful night in Sochi.  Viktor had never felt the _‘stay close to me’_ as strongly as he had then.  It seemed futile.  It seemed senseless. He was prepared to let it go, adrift, once the season ended.

When the first hundred people had tagged him on twitter with the link to youtube, Viktor had ignored them.  Figure skating fans were mostly a wonderful aspect of the job, but it wasn’t unusual for odd things to grow in popularity.  He wasn’t in the mood and had spent the morning muting his notifications and looking for the biggest, most diet-breaking cake recipe he could get away with.  It wasn’t until Chris had texted him the link on his private number that Viktor took notice - the caption _maybe you still have hope, my friend_ compelling him to finally click the link.  It’s Yuuri, plumper and shakier, skating _Stammi Vicino_ more beautifully than Viktor could ever dream of.  It’s the responding cry he’d been wanting, waiting for, even before the Japanese skater had enchanted him so entirely.

The pair skate idea was a half-joke from Yuuko that never managed to leave Viktor’s mind.  It had formed and grown over the eight months they spent together in Hasetsu, and Viktor adored building the piece together - to reform the broken song of solitude and longing into a complete form.  A call and response, the two sides of the song that they had skated for each other.  Lifting Yuuri high, helping him soar into the crescendo.  Having his Yuuri lift him in turn - knowing he was safe and trusting in his hold.  Truly encapsulating this feeling, this love.  

The feeling of two heartbeats blending into one.


	10. Chapter 10

**[#28] The Katsuki Family!!! On Ice**

 

Hiroko wobbles as she clings to her son-in-law, trying to stay upright on the ice.  For all the many years Yuuri has spent at Ice Castle Hasetsu, she had never tried it herself.  Yuuko had suggested it as something fun to do when Yuuri and Vik-chan came to visit during the summer and despite her protests and worries about falling, both boys promised that it would be exciting.

Yuuri is helping his father move a little farther from the sideboards, and Mari sits on the side, chatting to Yuuko.  Viktor holds her forearms securely, reassuring her she's doing well, even though a hint of a shake still threatens to trip her up.

“Sorry you are wasting your time with old people like us, Vik-chan,” self-aware and self-conscious of the situation despite the Russian’s wide grin.  It was meant to be a vacation for the two boys, after all.

“No, no, Mama Hiroko, we love sharing the ice with you.  You and Toshiya-san are doing so well.”  She and her husband are a far cry in skills from even the youngest beginners, but it is fun moving (slowly) around the rink.  Her daughter negging Toshiya and Yuuri as they do something she missed.

She had always known it took a lot of work to excel in a sport like figure skating, but being on the ice itself really brings it into focus.

“You are so talented, Vik-chan, to do this all the time.”

“Yuuri is much better than me.”

Moving her hands, slowly, so she doesn't lose her balance, to cup his face.  Smiling big.  “Both of my boys are so amazing.”

They end their rink trip with she and Toshiya joining Mari on the sidelines to watch Yuuri and Vik-chan skate together, beautiful.  It's no particular routine she recognises, but they move together as if reading each other's thoughts.  It's fluid, and organic, and the culmination of an understanding partnership.

Hiroko isn't a skater, but she loves skating anyway.

 

* * *

 

**[#29] Be My Coach!!!**

 

There are three things Viktor Nikiforov, four-time consecutive world champion, currently celebrating his fifth year of winning gold at the GPF, is acutely aware of in this moment:

  1. This year’s banquet has been _the best_ he’s ever experienced during his career.
  2. His current emotional mix of elation, attraction and inspiration is far preferable to the defeatedly-depressed mood he had arrived with.
  3. He is _extremely_ smitten.  He’d probably be making a lot of unwise impulse-driven choices right now if he wasn’t feeling the eyes of the entire figure skating community on him.



The reason is, of course, the amazingly fun and refreshing sixth-place skater who singlehandedly drank 4 bottles of champagne, and then dominated the dance floor despite his obvious drunkenness.  Graceful, strong, _enticing_ in how he moves his body, and enough nerve to challenge the Kitten during one of his worst moods, Yuuri Katsuki is impossible to look away from.  A vision on the pole, and even more arresting as he moves warm against Viktor’s frame when they dance hand-in-hand.  Brown eyes sparkle from so close, and Viktor can’t help but fall in, deep with adoration.  It’s like Shakespeare, a magical night full of unexpected surprises and wonderful experiences; a dream he is all too afraid he might wake from.

Thankfully, with a single declaration, it seems Yuuri feels the same.

 

* * *

 

**[#30] Eyebrows!!! On Ice**

 

“OK, we're taking a vote!”  Phichit announces unexpectedly, looking to his phone in disbelief at what he's seeing.  They're all at a restaurant in Japan having dinner together the day between NHK programs.

“What are we voting on?” Viktor asks - slurping up his cold udon before resting his chopsticks down.  “Who's going to win?  Yuuri will vote for me, so I don't think -”

“No, Viktor, this is far more important!”  Both Leo and Emil choke on a mix of laughter and disbelief; Seung Gil’s frown the only indication he had been listening.  Viktor’s eyes are wide in shock like he'd forgotten something fundamental.  Thanks to Yuuri's years of friendship with the Thai skater, he knows what sort of direction this conversation will be taking.

“Is this about butts again, Phichit?”

“No, Yuuri.  We already know you won that fight by a landslide,” Phichit waving his best friend off as he continues.  “This is something just as obvious, though.  This is eyebrows.”

“So, what's making the rounds that has you so annoyed?  Someone dethrone you?”

Phichit sighs at the amusement Yuuri has in his voice - knowing he's not being taken seriously.  The rest of their dinner partners just sit, anticipating.  “JJ fangirls swooning over his looks again and arguing about every aspect of his face.  The brows are gaining a lot of momentum - and whilst he does have a pretty impressive pair, they're hardly the best.”

Yuuri knows where this is going.  He's getting prepared to reaffirm his best friend's superiority at not only eyebrow game, but selfies and being cheeky-cute.  It's not the first time.

Amazingly, he's wrong.

“How could anyone think JJ has the best eyebrows amongst the senior skaters when Seung Gil is _right here_ ,” hand sweeping to the Korean, highlighting his point.  The usual uncaring look he wears has slipped to surprise at the focus now being on him, pink blush aggressively climbing up his neck.

“Now _those_ are eyebrow goals.”

 

* * *

 

**[#31] Happy Birthday Otabek**

 

**JJ**

[Hey man, Happy Birthday.]

[Hope you have lots of cake or whatever today.  What's the drinking age in Kazakhstan?  Probably 16, right?  Whatever. Take a shot for me, but don't get too smashed ;)]

[See you in China next week.]

  
  


**LEO DA MAN**

[YOOOOO HAPPY BIRTHDAY OTABEK!

Thnx for that mix you sent last week, really great selection.  Would've been cooler if u could've come over, but maybe next time.  Won't see you til 4CC unless we both qualify for GPF, but good luck.  Ur FS at Trophée was pretty awesome, u gotta show me how you launch ur 4T like that.]

[ALSO dude, it's like $43 to ship something to Almaty wtf, I'll bring ur present with me to 4CC/GPF.]

 

**юрий**

[Beka.]

[You spent time in the US, right???]

[Sounds cool to have compulsory scary shit on your birthday + free food.  Wish I could've been born during a holiday.  Convince Yakov to break my meal plan.]

[Not Christmas tho, I'd kill myself if I had the same bday as Viktor.]

[Plus nationals]

[Anyway, I sent you something last week, idk if you got it yet]   
  


Being 19 isn't any different from being 18, Otabek thinks.  He didn't get any taller, and it's not like he's suddenly any smarter.  19 is one of those weird transition years that no one really celebrates.  He did manage to strengthen his quad-lutz-triple-toe over the offseason though, and wants to pull it out at the Grand Prix Final if he qualifies again this year.  

The slew of birthday wishes from family, friends and fans keep his phone buzzing with notifications, and he'd just gotten off the phone with his mother when Yuri sent his string of texts.  The gloves the Russian skater had sent sit on his desk, and he pulls them on again to try the fit.  The soft goatskin is comfy, and Otabek flexes his hands in approval.  He'd mentioned to Yuri that he'd lost his last pair when some jerkoff stole them from his café table when he went to get a coffee three weeks ago.  He couldn't replace them right away, and had had to leave his poor bike at home - most people would have just ridden without gloves, but he couldn't afford any scrapes or broken bones during the season in the unlikely event of a crash or fall.

Taking a picture, he makes a twitter post thanking everyone for the Birthday wishes, captioning the photo with ‘best gift’.  He then opens his texts to reply to his friends directly.

19 isn't any different from 18, but he's glad people care enough to celebrate anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my good friends on discord, who bullied me into participating.
> 
> The full list of prompts is available [here](https://twitter.com/hullo_darkness/status/908740459329093632).
> 
> You can follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/WritingGee) for more frequent updates.


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